Earth Colony Sentinel (Galactic Arena Book 2)
Page 17
“No, please educate me,” Cooper said.
Stirling growled at them. “Shut up, both of you. All of you. And keep your voices down. Now. We will not damage the ETATs. All we are doing is borrowing them for a day or two until we return. It’s like Ram says. If we do anything else, we might as well not try anything at all. Isn’t that right, Ensign?”
Tseng nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” He seemed miserable.
Some leader.
“Do any of you know how to counter our geolocators? Our tracker devices?” Ram asked. “Our suits have them, right? Where are they, can we take them out? Smash them up?”
Stirling nodded at Harris.
“I can find them well enough but we don’t want to smash them,” Harris said. “If we need extraction or if we get separated from each other, we might need them operational. We have powerful ones in the suit but each of us has subdermal geolocators as part of our biometrics chipset. But they are designed to be temporarily disabled when needed, for example if stealth is required.”
Ram nodded, recalling that he had been told that before, at some point. “And they think the wheelers can sense electromagnetic signals. So our armor can be switched to stealth mode.”
Harris grinned. “You do remember.”
Ram thought that was strange thing to say. “We need a command code, right?”
Stirling replied. “That’s right. An officer’s command code.”
Everyone looked at Ensign Tseng.
He held up a hand. “Alright. Yes. Alright, I will. But if we do so within the outpost, the command network will alert the Command Team. Captain Cassidy will send Sergeant Major Gruger. And Gruger and his thugs will put an end to our little conspiracy before we get anywhere.” Tseng looked at each of them in turn. “You might not care about your careers any more but you might not enjoy being locked up until the Sentinel arrives. I would not put it past Cassidy to have us sedated instead. Leave us comatose for days, weeks. Is that a risk you are all willing to take?”
No one hesitated. Even Corporal Fury stirred to confirm it.
Tseng transferred the code to Harris, touching his wrist screen to his tech specialist’s wrist.
“I’ll need to redirect the signals,” Harris said, grinning like a madman. “And I know how to do it. First, someone will have to procure a backup patrol drone from storage. I will ensure it stays off the network and send it in the opposite direction to the way the aliens went.”
“The opposite?” Stirling asked.
The grin dropped from Harris’ face. “Yes? I mean, no?”
“You bloody idiot. You don’t think they would wonder why we are heading away from the people we want to rescue?”
“So…” Harris said. “I should send it a few degrees of arc off our true trajectory?”
Stirling smiled at Harris. “You see? They really did only send geniuses on this mission after all.”
“Right then,” Ram said, standing up. “Let’s get to work.”
***
Rama was certain they would get caught. There was no way an entire team could sneak out of a heavily guarded outpost. Especially one where every single individual on the planet was known to every other, in some way or another. The outpost was protected by a web of mobile surveillance drones, emplaced sensors and patrolling Marines with the data stream analyzed by the outpost AI for possible threats and even a device as small as an insect would be detected attempting to breach the perimeter.
They had merely a handful of variables in their favor. The automated and human defenses were aimed outward. The fear was that the enemy would attempt a sneak attack, not that a few people would sneak out in the night. It wasn’t as though there was a brothel or a bar in the hills. And no one truly expected the wheelhunters to launch a surprise assault in the darkness. It had not been their style, so far. No one was on high alert and the AI had most of its attention on methods to increase atmospheric processing, enhance the filtering and quarantine procedures, streamline the efficiency of the reactor cooling systems, calculate the optimal spread of the genetically tailored Earth microbes by the xenobiologists’ drones and so on. At least, that’s what Harris assured them.
Harris was their key asset. Before his mental breakdown, Harris had been an infiltration specialist. His expertise with surveillance equipment and how to counter it was second to none. In fact, Stirling had assured Ram, Harris might just be an actual genius, if that word was really worth anything.
“Don’t tell him that I called him that for real,” Stirling whispered. “They managed to get his megalomania under control with drugs and therapy but we don’t want to set him off again.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Ram whispered back.
They were the two biggest men in the outpost. Rama Seti had the body of an artificially grown giant but Stirling was a proper human and he was at least two meters tall. Too big, surely, to function efficiently as a Marine but he had been effective enough to both be promoted to the rank of sergeant and also selected for the Orb mission. Still, a giant compared to anyone other than Ram and the both of them were attempting to sneak into a storage unit in order to steal a UNOP General Purpose All-Terrain Drone (GPAT Drone).
Everyone else had tasks that only they could complete. Tseng was accessing the command codes necessary to activate the ETAT vehicles. Cooper was stealing communications gear that Harris would then reprogram. Flores had been having some sort of non-defined, probably-sexual relationship with one of the biologists and she would use that contact to gain access to the lab to steal one of the prototype wheelhunter translation devices. Fury’s job was to take one of the alien weapons from the workshops that were attempting to understand their operation. No one knew if the weapons were on lockdown or not but if they were, Corporal Fury was known to be a scout sniper and weapon specialist and would have the best chance of talking her way into taking a weapon.
That left Stirling to steal the GPAT drone from west wing storage unit C. To do that, he would need to distract the Marines on duty.
“What better distraction than the hero of all humanity?” Stirling had said.
“May as well use my fame for good instead of evil,” Ram had said.
Crouching behind a row of water canisters in the corridor, he was regretting those words. He felt ridiculous.
“Go on, sir,” Stirling hissed at him. “Now, sir, you bloody great bastard.” He shoved Ram, hard. So hard that Ram almost dropped his helmet.
The sentry called out. “Who’s that down there?”
Ram jumped up and unfolded himself to his full height. His bare head almost brushed the exposed pipework running along the ceiling.
“Ah,” Ram said. “Yes. Hello, Private. Private Wells, is it?”
She grinned. “That’s right, sir. Sarah, if you like, sir.”
“Oh. Sarah, of course. So, Sarah. How are you, this evening?”
“I’m great!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m pretty bored standing here, you know. All alone. Not that, I mean, it’s fine. We all have to take turns.”
Ram nodded and advanced toward her in what he hoped was a casual saunter but feared was an awkward shuffle. “Anything happening tonight? I mean, with the old sentry duty. I mean.”
She laughed. “Nothing at all until you showed up. There’s not really much need for us to do this at all, it’s just that, there’s a chance that the wheelers could sneak up, somehow. A one in a million chance, considering all the surveillance but we need to have someone on all the key locations.”
“Oh yeah?” Ram said, moving beyond her a little, as if peering inside the unit. She turned to keep facing him, giving Sergeant Stirling a chance to advance to a stack of boxes further along the corridor. “And that’s what this is?”
“Well,” Private Wells said, tilting her head side to side. “Just a storage unit here, not exactly the reactor or anything but seeing as we’re entirely dependent on what we have and what we can extract from the environment until our reinforcements sh
ow up, it is pretty vital we look after what we have. Wouldn’t you agree?” She laughed lightly again.
“I would. I would indeed.”
Behind her, Stirling jabbed his finger repeatedly at his own head and then once at Ram. A stabbing gesture, full of meaning.
Private Wells frowned a little and started to turn.
“Hey,” Ram said. “I just remembered. You’re qualified to perform maintenance on combat helmets, right?”
She opened her mouth, then paused, frowning. “You remembered that about me?” Her eyes flicked around Ram’s face. “You remembered that? About me specifically? You remember anything else? About me?”
“Yes,” Ram said. “I mean, that is to say, no. Not really. But I’d like to. For now, I’d really like it if you could take a look at my helmet. I think maybe I took more wheeler damage back then that I realized. Maybe you could patch me up?”
She hesitated then blew air through her pursed lips in the universal expression of tradespersons who are about to give you bad news.
“Yours is not a standard model. Not by any means. You should give this to Sergeant Wu. Gunny Wu is the man.”
Stirling poked his huge head out from behind the boxes and mimed getting on with it, his face twisted in anger or something similar.
“Gunny Wu? Right, yeah, I would and I will but every time I’ve seen him, he’s been super busy. Here.”
And he thrust the huge, Rama Seti-sized combat helmet right at her and held it there.
Wells sighed, taking it from him slowly. “Alright, I guess I can at least carry out an initial assessment.”
Behind her, not four meters away, the massive Sergeant Stirling scampered inside storage unit C. For a giant man, he moved quickly and on soft feet.
Wells half turned while she was speaking, looking over her shoulder.
Ram tapped the helmet in her hands. “Not too big, is it?” he asked.
“What’s that?” she asked, turning back to him. “How do you mean?”
He tried not to let his stress or his relief show. “Just wondering if the helmet was too big to fix. Or, too non-standard, I should have said. Not like everyone else’s, I would guess?”
“I don’t know,” she said, peering inside. “Looks the same to me. The working parts are going to be the same, right? Just the structural elements that are printed to match scans of our heads.”
“Sure, sure,” Ram said, nodding, glancing at the entrance to the storage unit.
“Oh,” Wells said. “I know what this is about.”
“What?” Ram said, looking down at her. “My helmet—”
“Yeah, sure,” Wells said, scowling. “Damaged in the wheeler attack, you said? There’s barely a scratch on it. No components loose, no rattling sounds. There’s nothing wrong with this damned helmet, is there.” She shoved it back at him, reaching up to smack it against his abdomen.
He took it and turned the helmet in his hands. “I can explain.”
She bobbed her head. “Go on, then.”
Ram laughed. “It’s like this…”
Behind her, Stirling ducked his head out of the doorway and looked around, eyes wide. He ducked back in again.
Wells shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it doesn’t matter how big they build you guys, you’re still like little kids when it comes to speaking to a girl you like.”
“Right, right,” Ram said.
Oh shit.
Stirling crept out of the unit carrying what appeared to be a bundle of clothing. The big man moved quickly and he ducked back behind the row of canisters. Ram let out a sigh.
“Is that it, then?” Wells asked. “You’re giving up?”
“No, no,” Ram said. “I just didn’t think it through, that’s all. I mean, I was thinking, there’s no way you would want to get hit on down here on this planet when we’re at risk of dying at any moment.”
“What better time to do it?”
“Right,” Ram said, laughing. “I don’t really know what to say, to be honest with you. I never really did this much in my real life. Just in Avar.”
“I get it, don’t worry.”
“Maybe we could meet in the mess hall later?” Ram said. “That’s probably crazy, right? Eating rations surrounded by dozens of stinking people isn’t exactly romantic, is it.”
“Romance?” She said, blurting it out. “Is that what you’re going for?”
“No, no. I mean, I don’t know.” Ram began backing away. “This is just a bad time, forget I said anything.”
“I don’t think I’m going to forget. Maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Yes, yeah. Great. I’ll see you later.” He turned and hurried away as rapidly as he could. “Thanks for looking at my helmet.”
Stirling waited around the corner, his bundle wrapped under his arm. He held the other hand over his face, trying to stifle his laughter.
“What?” Ram said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Oh, man.” Stirling wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re a real smooth talker, you know that?”
“What was I supposed to do? You took forever in there.”
“I had to wrap this thing in something. Found some overalls. And I was quick. Super quick.” Stirling laughed again. “All you had to do was have a normal conversation, sir.”
Ram clapped Stirling on the back, laughing. “Come on, let’s get out of here, quick.”
***
“Hurry,” Ram said, urging the others to him in the darkness. The last pair to arrive hurried low along the outer wall of the outpost, carrying their equipment.
Artificial light spilled from the middle of the outpost, making pools of white glare fading to complete blackness in between. The stars above were bright but fading fast behind a spreading dark cloud that built up from everywhere and nowhere. Ram’s AugHud adjusted automatically wherever he turned, seeing the others in the team clearly as they huddled at the base of the outpost wall, a busy robot working away over them.
The northwest corner of the outpost was now repaired and being extended by the rapid and persistent working of a crawler drone. Its mechanical arms scissoring up and down at its sides, layering the walls of what would be a tower, protruding from the corner. That tower would house a mounted weapon atop it, providing fire out at approaching wheelers and also down at the walls, should they attempt to attack that section once more.
The noisy, busy activity of the crawler would hide the gathering Marines but they had to be quick.
“Fury,” Sergeant Stirling said. “What the hell have you got there? Where’s the wheeler pistol you were supposed to get?”
The scout sniper had brought her marksman rifle, which was longer than she was tall.
“I know, Sergeant, I know,” Corporal Fury said. Her face behind her visor was normally blank but as she spoke, she had a wicked glint in her eye. “No way to get an alien weapon. But we need long range support out here. Anyway, just couldn’t bring myself to leave the old girl behind.” She patted the stock of her huge rifle.
“You cunning bloody idiot,” Stirling said. “Can’t drop it there, can you. Not where someone will see it. I’ll deal with you later.”
“Enough talk,” Ensign Tseng snapped. “We will go. Now.”
“Wait!” Harris said. “Wait, sir. Look at the AugHud. The patrol is behind schedule. Dawdling.”
Cooper scoffed. “Lazy twats.”
“They’ll never see us from over there,” Tseng said, standing.
Ram placed a hand on Tseng’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Wait, sir. Just a minute.”
The ensign jerked, startled. “Take your hand off of me,” Tseng said, shaking his shoulder free. “Damned undead brute.”
Ram leaned forward so that his faceplate was just a couple of centimeters from Tseng’s. “No need to be rude, Ensign Tseng,” Ram said.
The officer’s eyes stared up at Ram, defiant but with a hint of fear.
“That’s it,” Harris said. “They’ve moved on.”
<
br /> Tseng glared at Ram but moved off without speaking. The officer’s webbing was loaded with equipment and grenades with additional pouches all over him holding pistol magazines but he carried just his holstered sidearm and no supplies for the expedition. Tseng padded off into the darkness.
“Alright, everyone,” Stirling said. “No need for anything fancy, now. Get to your assigned vehicle and off we go. Come on.”
Each of them carried as much gear and supplies as they could manage. As well as his own rations, batteries and medical supplies, Ram carried his XRS-Handspear and with the large additional magazines, one of the EVA tents on top of his pack, plus 38 liters of water in two cans. Stirling carried the other tent, extra ammunition and more water.
They made their way in two small groups, heading for the ETATs.
The vehicle park was fifty meters from the outpost. A shallow pit with walls on three sides and a sloping rock-hewn ramp on the fourth side which would hide and protect the precious buggies and allowed them to be worked on and loaded in relative shelter. The intention was to build a trench from the park to the outpost and then to roof that over and eventually to create a garage area. But only after the wheelers were defeated and driven off planet or all slaughtered.
Those fifty meters seemed to Ram to be a long way. He was weighted down with at least 100 kilograms and he lumbered along, expecting someone from the outpost or one of the patrols to spot them.
It wasn’t as though there were any windows on the outside walls of the outpost. And they knew where the perimeter patrols were. There were not enough Marines to cover the area so they relied on drones to fill in the gaps. And Harris and Cooper had supposedly taken care of that.
Supposedly.
Still, Ram felt as though he was being watched. Like an itching on the back of his neck that he could not scratch. As if there was something he had forgotten to do but he could not remember what it was.
But there was nothing. It was just fear. He squashed it down as best he could and ran on, the equipment bouncing around on his back and shoulders and in his hands and all over his armor. The team of them together probably sounded like the Mumbai Robot Demolition Derby as they jogged across the open ground.